Friday the 13th novelization PART 2
by HornRaptor
Summary: This is the next part of my novelization of Friday the 13th, and I used information, dialogue, characters etc from the original 1980 film and got some ideas from the Simon hawke novelization as well! I changed up a few things and made it my own, but overall, it sticks with the main plot of the first film.


Chapter 8

The teenagers gathered in the main cabin to eat an assortment of junk food for dinner, from greasy hamburgers, to salted French fries and soda, and Marcie's apple pie for dessert. Some preferred to sit outside in the cool summer air and have dinner at the picnic tables scattered around the campgrounds. The dark, threatening storm clouds rolled over the campsite, setting a gloomy overcast across the grounds. The thunder was growing increasingly louder, and the wind began to pick up as the evening progressed.

After a nice vegetarian meal that Alice and Bill teased her for, Brenda took it upon herself to clean up after dinner. Ned was still nowhere to be found and Jack and Marcie went for an evening stroll around the lake. Alice decided to go try to phone her mother from the camp office, just to try and see how she was doing.

Alice strolled across through the campgrounds passing by the lake, where Jack and Marcie balanced on a log. Marcie fell off straight onto her backside, and Jack roared with laughter. Marcie stood up and dusted herself off, and Jack wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly. Alice smiled as she watched the two lovebirds, and kept walking past to her cabin.

Alice pushed open the wooden door to her cabin, and walked inside. She glanced up at the large cut in the window screen where the snake had supposedly slithered in. She looked down at the blood stain where Bill had chopped up the snake, and grimaced.

She walked over to her suitcase, and unzipped the side pocket, and pulled out a slip of paper where she had scribbled down the number to the hospital where her mom was staying. She memorized it, and walked out of the cabin. She remembered that Mr. Christy had told her if she ever wanted to make a long distance call to her mother, feel free to do so. And that is what she was about to do.

The camp office was a small, box-shaped building beside the camp entrance. A crudely-built sign that read: "Office" hung from the door. The porch was small and cluttered, and a set of rickety wooden steps led up to the door. She climbed the steps, and opened the door to the small interior of the office. It was a tiny, claustrophobic room with a bookshelf on one wall, a row of filing cabinets on another, and beside the door was a desk, with a plethora of office supplies atop it, along with a directory and a telephone.

Alice picked up the receiver and rotated the dial to phone the operator. The operator's voice came over the phone.

"Yes, I would like to make a phone call. Can you put me through to the California Hospital Medical Center, the number is 213-454-7687," Alice said.

"Would you like me to charge to this number?" the operator asked.

"Yes," Alice responded.

"One moment, please,"

Alice stood for a moment, waiting for the hospital to come over the other line. She drummed her fingers on the wooden desktop absent-mindedly, gazing out the small window above the desk. Jack and Marcie had gone further down the lake shore, out of view.

"Yes, this is California Hospital Medical Center, how can I help you?" a cheery woman's voice asked.

"Yes, can I speak with Mary Hardy? She's in room 206," Alice replied.

"We're sorry, but Mrs. Hardy isn't taking phone calls at the moment. You can try again later, or I can take a message for you," the receptionist suggested.

"That's fine. Is she doing alright?" Alice questioned.

"Why, yes, she has been fine, her vitals are doing nicely, and she has been stable all day,"

"That's wonderful. Tell her I said that I will call her in the morning," Alice told the receptionist.

"Alright, Mrs. Hardy,"

"Ok, thank you," Alice said, and hung up the phone.

Alice felt much better, but at the same time, she felt disappointed that she didn't get to speak to her.

Alice planned on trying again later or maybe in the morning. She sighed, and strolled out of the office, banging the door shut behind her. All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up. That feeling of being watched washed over her once more. She looked around cautiously, furrowing her eyebrows with concern. There was nobody around.

The campgrounds were deserted. Nobody in sight. Jack and Marcie had disappeared. What was she so paranoid about? She still couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching her. She began to walk across the campgrounds, trying to lose the feeling.

She never did.

Alice walked up the slope towards the main cabin, feeling the slight evening breeze on her bare skin. She passed under the large tree in the front yard, sighing with pleasure as the tree's branches bathed her in shade. Alice climbed the stairs to the front porch and walked inside the main cabin.

The sound of dishes clattering together in the sink came from the kitchen, and Alice walked into the kitchen, following the sound. Brenda stood at the sink, scrubbing a plate with a sponge.

"Having fun?" Alice joked.

"Isn't it obvious? Jack and Marcie went off on a honeymoon and I'm left with these dishes to clean," Brenda remarked.

"You are the perfect housewife," Alice teased, leaning against the counter.

Brenda scoffed.

"Where is Ned? I haven't seen him since dinner started," Alice stated.

"I'm not sure. He said he was getting kind of tired. I don't blame him. I would be worn out if I pulled all the stuff that he does," Brenda chided.

"Still a little bitter?" Alice asked with a grin.

"Just a little bit," Brenda said, as she set the dish into the cabinet, and started another food-stained plate. "If you are wondering about Bill also, he went to fetch firewood. It's supposed to get chilly tonight,"

"Speaking of Bill…" Alice started as she walked up towards the sink and stood beside Brenda. Brenda caught a glimpse of the knowing glare that Alice had on her face.

"Oh, Alice, don't give me that look," Brenda said and set down the dishes.

"I told you not to tell anyone, especially him," Alice scolded.

"He was going to find out anyway," Brenda rationalized.

"Yes, in time, but I didn't want him to know. Why are you obsessing over this?" Alice asked.

"I'm not obsessing! It's obvious you like him, and he likes you, so you two need to do something about it," Brenda said.

"Brenda, I really can't keep up a long distance relationship right now, I have too much on my mind. I just met this guy for crying out loud," Alice argued.

There was a moment of silence.

"Look, I'm not going to tell you what to do. It's your love life. But what I am going to tell you to do is to stay and have fun," Brenda said.

"My mom needs me," Alice replied.

"Did you call her?"

"Yes I did, but she was unable to take my call. I'll try again in the morning," Alice explained.

"Your mom told you that you needed to get away for a while. That's what you are doing!" Brenda told Alice. "Do you know if your mom is doing ok?"

"Yes, they said she is doing fine,"

"See? There is nothing to fret about," Brenda assured.

After a pause, Alice sighed.

"I guess you are right,"

"I always am," Brenda teased with a smile.

Alice rolled her eyes and laughed. Just then, the front door swung open and Bill walked in, carrying a huge bundle of firewood in his muscular arms. Alice sauntered into the living room.

"Hey, do you need any help with that?" Alice asked.

"No, I got it. Thanks though," Bill replied and placed the stack of firewood beside the fireplace. Bill peered out the window at the storm clouds that were spreading across the campgrounds.

"It's about to storm really bad pretty soon. I feel sorry for Jack and Marcie. If they don't come inside soon, they are going to get the worst of the storm," Bill said.

"Good thing we are in here next to a cozy fire," Alice said, plopping down on the couch. She had hoped Bill would sit beside her, but he didn't. He just stood there, with his hands in his pockets, staring out the window.

Just then, Brenda came into the room, drying her hands on a dishcloth.

"Any of you lovely people want to come help me dry dishes?" Brenda asked.

"I will help you," Alice said, getting to her feet.

"I am going to grab my guitar. You girls could use some entertainment," Bill implored.

"Ooh, I didn't know you could play guitar," Brenda said, looking at Alice.

"Well, I know a thing or two," Bill said, flashing a smile and left the main cabin, the door shutting behind him.

"God, he's cute," Alice said, more to herself than anything.

Brenda laughed.

"Come on, you pitiful thing, get in here and help me with these dishes," Brenda stated and Alice and Brenda walked into the kitchen chuckling.

The sun was barely even a glow anymore. It barely peeked over the horizon, and the sky was now a dark bluish-purple color. The crickets were chirping, and thunder boomed and lighting flashed in the distance. The wind was picking up and the waves that crashed onto the shore of the lake were getting larger.

Ned strolled aimlessly down the shore of the lake, his hands in his pockets. He picked up a pebble and skipped it across the glassy surface of the water. He sighed and looked down the shore of the lake, where Marcie and Jack were wading in the shallow water, flirting and laughing and splashing each other playfully. Ned groaned.

Why couldn't he be as appealing to women as Jack? Jack had everything. I am just too awkward, Ned thought. Ned would never be as cool and suave as Jack. Jack had looks, charisma, and the romance. Ned tried to flirt by cracking jokes, and apparently, girls didn't like that. He really screwed up with Brenda. She probably hated him.

Ned shook his head. He was kicking himself in his mind. He didn't know what he was thinking when he pulled that stupid drowning stunt. What was he thinking? He probably wasn't thinking.

"Idiot," Ned muttered to himself, kicking another pebble.

Pretty soon, Ned had walked away the shore of the lake without even thinking, now he didn't even know where he was. Ned glanced around. He was in the middle of the woods, but he could see the lake through the trees, so he wasn't lost. Ned spun around and saw a cabin in the distance.

A small wooden bunkhouse with a tin roof sat in the middle of a small clearing. It looked neglected and deserted, like the camp would never use it again.

Suddenly, Ned saw something move. He squinted, stretching out his neck. What was that? Somebody was on the porch of the abandoned cabin. Yes, that was it. Somebody in a dark black raincoat. Standing there, watching him. Was it Mr. Christy? Jack, maybe? Or maybe it was that crazy old man, Ralph, again.

"Hello! Can I help you?!" Ned screamed. The figure just stood there for a few moments, and the figure walked towards the door of the cabin, and opened it, and slipped into the dark interior of the cabin, the door closing behind them.

Ned grinned. He knew what was going on. The others were trying to pull a prank on him. They were getting revenge for his _faux-pas_ drowning prank. He was going to walk in, and they were all going to jump out and scare him. Well, it wasn't going to work.

Ned strolled towards the cabin, determined to foil their plans.

"Wow, guys, you are really funny. Come out of there!" Ned yelled, laughing. "It's not going to work!"

No answer.

Ned approached the cabin, his feet crunching over dead leaves.

"Jack, Marcie, Alice, you can come out! The joke's over! I know I probably deserved this, but really guys, you could have done better," Ned called, and walked up the front steps of the cabin and walked across the porch. Ned stood there for a moment, hesitant to walk in.

Should he go in? Should he go in and scare them before they could scare him? Maybe he should just give up and pretend to act scared. He did deserve it, after the crap that he pulled.

"Hello!" Ned called from the porch. "Who's in there? Come on guys!" Ned yelled from outside.

Silence. Ned outstretched his hand and opened the cabin door. It was dark and quiet inside.

"Hello? Is anyone in there? I-I saw you come in here!" Ned called.

There was no reply. Utter silence.

"Jack? Hello?" Ned called.

Ned slowly and warily entered the cabin, looking around to see if he saw any of his friends. The cabin seemed to be empty.

All of a sudden, the cabin door slammed shut behind him, and before Ned could react, a gloved hand clamped over his mouth and there was a flash of silver as a long, sharp hunting knife was brought to his throat. Ned had no time to scream.

Night was near, and the crickets chirping and the sun setting over the lake made a very romantic scene. Jack and Marcie sat on a stump by the lakeshore, Marcie's head rested on Jack's muscular shoulder. Thunder groaned softly in the sky.

"You know, I have always been scared of thunderstorms," Marcie stated, gazing up at the dark, melancholy clouds that hung low in the sky.

"You want to go inside?" Jack asked.

"No, it's ok. I have you here with me," Marcie said sweetly, kissing Jack's nose. Jack returned the favor.

"Why are you scared of them?" Jack asked.

"I don't know. I have never liked them, ever since I was a kid. I used to have this dream all the time about thunderstorms. I will always remember that dream," Marcie explained.

"What is the dream about?"

"Well, I'm standing outside. And it's raining really hard. It's the really bad kind of rain. The rain that sounds like pebbles when it hits the ground. The sound gets louder and louder. I try to block the sound out with my hands, but it doesn't help, the sound just keeps getting louder. And then, the rain turns to blood,"

Marcie's expression turned solemn, and Jack looked at her intently, wanting her to finish.

"And then….and then…I-I'm covered in blood from head to toe, and it's raining blood really hard and the blood is washing away in little rivers and then all of a sudden, it just stops. Everything just stops. Right there. And there is complete silence. And then I wake up."

"Wow, that's pretty messed up," Jack said.

"Yeah, I have always been scared of thunderstorms because of that dream. Weird, huh?"

"That is weird," Jack said.

After a few moments of silence, Marcie chimed in.

"What are we going to do about Ned?"

"What do you mean?" Jack inquired.

"He's acting like such a jerk," Marcie replied.

"Look, Ned is just going to be Ned and there's nothing you can do about it," Jack stated.

"I know, I know,"

"You want him to apologize?" Jack asked. "Hey, Ned!" Jack called.

Marcie swatted at him. "No, don't call him over here!" she cried.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Jack asked.

"Nothing, just forget I mentioned Ned," Marcie proclaimed and rested her head on Jack's shoulder. Jack wrapped his arm around Marcie and stroked her long brown hair softly. Marcie smiled and snuggled up closer to Jack.

All of a sudden, a huge white bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, almost splitting a line across the sky that divided the camp into two halves. Thunder boomed.

Marcie squealed and buried her head into Jack's chest.

"Holy crap, this storm is going rip down this valley like a son of a gun," Jack said. "The wind has shifted a good 180 degrees,"

"Makes me want to hold on to you," Marcie toyed, nuzzling Jack's shoulder.

"Oh shit, Jack, I feel raindrops," Marcie stated, wiping a drop of water off of the end of her nose.

"Yeah, we are going to get soaked, let's go," Jack said. The two stood to their feet and hurried down the shore of the lake. They ducked into the shelter of the trees as Jack held a poncho over their heads. They found a trail that led deeper into the woods and followed it. Halfway down the trail, the bottom fell out and pretty soon it was raining furiously, pounding down on them like a thousand tiny pebbles. Jack and Marcie hurried down the trail, and Jack saw a cabin ahead, and pointed towards it.

"Hey, let's head there!" Jack exclaimed and they dashed towards the cabin. It was a small, desolate shack with a tin roof.

It was the same cabin Ned had entered earlier.

They climbed onto the porch, the old wood sagging underneath their feet, and they scrambled inside, closing the door behind them.

"Whew!" Jack exclaimed, shaking his wet head like a dog. He threw his poncho down, as Marcie rang out her hair.

"It's dark in here," Marcie stated, standing to her feet.

"Here, I found something," Jack said, holding up a small antique oil lantern. Jack pulled out a lighter and lit the lantern. It illuminated the interior of the cabin. It was a small room with two bunk beds against opposite walls, a few dressers and a cracked, dirty mirror.

"This isn't so bad," Jack remarked, placing the lantern on top of the small nightstand beside the bunk bed.

Jack pulled off his sweatshirt, revealing a green tank top underneath, and Marcie sat down on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed, and pulled off her jacket, revealing a pink T-shirt, and the straps of a lacy, white bra. She shuddered from the chill of the rain.

Jack glanced over at Marcie, and gave her a seductive smile.

"Why don't you come warm me up?" Marcie asked, with a naughty grin.

Jack snickered. "You think anyone's ever done it in a bunk bed before?" Jack said, pulling off his green tank top, revealing his muscular abdomen.

"There's a first time for everything," Marcie winked at him, and laid back on the bed. She pulled off her blue jeans, showing off a pair of white panties.

Jack couldn't resist.

He walked over towards the bunk bed and climbed on top of the beautiful girl available to him, and kissed her softly, pressing down on top of her. And their hands began to wander as Marcie pulled the covers over them both and their lips met in one long kiss. They both began to moan with pleasure. Lightning flashed, and thunder boomed outside, and the rain pitter-pattering on the tin roof drowned out the lovebirds' moans of passion. Marcie groped the small of Jack's back, as he began to kiss her neck and nibble on the fleshy portion of her earlobe. She bit her lip with intense pleasure, and began to take off her T-shirt.

Little did they know, directly above the lovemaking couple in the top bunk, was Ned's corpse. His dumb grin was now a grotesque frozen scream, his lifeless eyes stared into space and his hair was matted down and caked with blood.

His throat had been slit from ear-to-ear.

The fire crackled and popped in the fireplace, as Alice jabbed it with a fireplace poker. Brenda was perched on the couch and Bill sat in the armchair, softly picking a haunting tune on his guitar. Alice placed the poker in the utensil rack by the fireplace and sat on the couch beside Brenda. It was now pitch black outside, and the rain was coming down hard.

The three of them had decided to settle into the main cabin for the night; with the fire burning low in the stone hearth and listening to Bill strum the guitar. Bill strummed the last chord of the song, and Alice and Brenda applauded softly.

"That was nice, Bill," Brenda praised.

"Thanks, my dad taught it to me. He was a musical prodigy, I guess you could say," Bill stated, setting his guitar beside the armchair.

"What do you guys want to do?" Alice asked, shifting her position on the couch.

"I don't know," Bill said, leaning back in the armchair, thinking.

"Ooh, I know what we can do. I think I saw it somewhere over here," Brenda said, getting up and walking over to the bookcase. She knelt down and began searching the bottom shelves.

"What do you have in mind?" Alice asked.

Brenda found what she was looking for, and pulled a cardboard box out of the shelf. Alice recognized the design on the box. It was the game box for Monopoly.

"Oh, I hate Monopoly," Alice groaned.

"Not the way I play it," Brenda replied coyly, and she set the game box onto the coffee table and sat back down beside Alice.

"What do you mean?" Bill asked, getting interested.

Brenda looked at the both of them, with a mischievous grin on her face.

"We are going to play strip Monopoly," Brenda stated, smiling and opening the game box.

"Oh, you have to be kidding," Alice said, her face turning red and she covered her face with her hands.

"Oh good grief," Bill exclaimed, laughing.

"Oh come on, guys, it will be fun. The rules are exactly the same as the true game, except instead of paying with money, you pay with clothes." Brenda explained.

"And what if Mr. Christy walks in?" Alice asked.

"He can join in if he wants. He can keep his boots on, but everything else goes," Brenda teased, winking at Alice.

"Oh, goodness, I can't believe we are about to do this," Alice said, rolling her eyes.

"Come on, Alice, don't be a stick in the mud. You want to play, don't you, Bill?" Brenda asked.

Bill shrugged.

"I-I'll play if you will," Bill said to Alice, obviously embarrassed.

There was a moment of silence, and a smile spread across Alice's face.

"It does sound interesting," Alice said, with a chuckle.

"That a girl," Brenda said.

Bill and Alice scooted closer to the game board. Thunder cracked, and a sudden torrent of rain unleashed itself onto the tin roof of the main cabin.

"I wonder where Marcie and Jack are. They are going to get drenched," Alice commented as Brenda took out the game board and spread it out across the table.

"Not if they are where I think they are," Bill joked with a laugh.

"You are probably right. They were all over each other at dinner," Alice said.

Brenda finished setting up the game board, and assigned all three of them game pieces.

"So, who wants to roll first?" Brenda asked.

The small flame in the oil lantern flickered in the glass bulb, providing just enough light to see Jack and Marcie, cuddled underneath the wool blanket, nude, and wrapped in sheets. It set a romantic stage, the rain pitter-pattering outside, and the warm glow from the lantern, and the dark, damp interior of the small, humble cabin. Marcie sighed, as Jack wrapped his arm around Marcie, and stroked her hair with his free hand. They had finished making love a few minutes ago, and had decided to wait out the rain for the next hour or so.

"Mm, you are so fine," Jack said, leaning over and kissing Marcie softly on the cheek.

Marcie smiled and rolled over on her back, as Jack fondled her breasts. They kissed again, Marcie running her hand through his soft blond hair.

"I wonder where Ned is," Marcie said.

"Forget Ned," Jack said, kissing her again.

Marcie laughed.

"I'm serious; he has been gone all afternoon. I feel bad for him, Jack," Marcie said, sitting up and covering her chest with the blanket.

Jack sat up and put his arm around her.

"Half an hour ago, you were talking about how much of a jerk he was," Jack said.

"Well, I was just thinking, I mean, he doesn't try to hurt anybody, he's just trying to make friends," Marcie explained.

"Look, I'll have a talk with him, ok?" Jack offered, lying back on the bed.

"No, you don't have to. I just feel bad for being mean to him,"

"It was a sick joke," Jack responded.

"I know, I know. But he wasn't trying to hurt anyone. It's just how he communicates, by pulling jokes. Maybe you should coach him on how to be so attractive," Marcie said, smiling, and cuddling up next to Jack, resting her head on his chest. Jack rolled over on top of Marcie, and they engaged in a long passionate kiss.

"Wait, babe, get off," Marcie said.

Jack clambered off of Marcie. Marcie slid off the bed, her feet padding across the hardwood floor.

"Yo, yo, where you going, beautiful?" Jack asked, lying on his back.

"I have to pee, you were kneeing me in the bladder the whole time," Marcie laughed.

Jack smiled and pulled out a cigarette.

"Well, hurry up, it's cold in here," Jack said, pulling on his green tank top.

Marcie slid on her pink shirt and her panties and grabbed the poncho. She leaned over Jack and kissed him tenderly.

"Save my spot," Marcie whispered, enticingly, with a coy smile.

"You bet," Jack replied with a wink.

Marcie put on the poncho, tossed her hair behind her shoulders, and pushed open the cabin door and walked out into the rainy night, the dilapidated door banging behind her.

Jack grabbed his lighter, stuck the cigarette in his mouth, and lit the cigarette, taking a deep puff. He set aside the lighter, and took another drag of the cigarette, and lay back on the bed, sighing with pleasure. She was amazing, Jack thought. He had finally had his first time. His first time with this amazing girl. He was in heaven. He didn't even think Marcie would let him go all the way. He thought she was better than that. But she did, and it was wonderful. Were they bad people? Jack thought. Well, he was planning on proposing when they returned home. They were going to get married soon anyway.

What if she said no? Jack thought. Why would she? They were perfect for each other, and she already gave him everything. There was nothing more to do except plan to be with each other for the rest of their lives. Marcie was much more than a sex toy to him. She was everything to him. He didn't care if they never had sex again. He just wanted to be with her.

All of a sudden, something fell from the top bunk, and hit Jack in the forehead. Something small. And wet. Jack held up his fingers and felt his forehead where the object had fell. Jack then looked at his fingers. They were bright red.

It was blood.

A drop of blood had fallen from the top bunk and hit his forehead. The creases in Jack's forehead wrinkled with confusion.

"Huh?" Jack wondered and looked up at the top bunk. Then, Jack gazed over at the old broken mirror. Lighting flashed, and he could just make out something moving underneath the bed. A dark silhouette.

Somebody was underneath the bottom bunk. Jack had no to react, to move, or to scream.

All of a sudden, a hand shot out from underneath the bed and clamped down on Jack's mouth, snapping his head back onto the pillow and pinning him to the bottom bunk. The hand was incredibly strong. Jack had no time to struggle or to fight.

There was the terrifying sound of ripping fabric, and all of a sudden, Jack felt a searing hot pain as the tip of an arrow ripped through the mattress and then tore into the back of his neck and pierced the front, causing a fountain of blood to spurt up into the air.

The arrow had gone through the bed and then into his throat. Blood gushed up like a vermillion geyser. Drops of his own blood hit him in the face. Jack's face twisted into sheer shock and agony, as he began to choke on his blood, as his attacker twisted the arrow around in his throat, and the attacker's hand muffled the horrible dying sound that came from Jack's throat, and he gagged and convulsed with pain, as life slowly drained from his body. Lightning flashed outside as Jack's blood began to drip down the side of the bunk bed and onto the floor, forming a small pool of red.

Chapter 9

"Five. Baltic Avenue, I think I will buy it," Alice said, as she set down the game piece.

"Nobody ever buys Baltic Avenue," Bill stated as he rolled the dice.

"I think it's a pretty color," Alice added as she watched Bill begin to move his game piece.

"4, 5, 6…" Bill set his game piece down on a spot on Baltic Avenue on the game board, and hung his head with an exasperated sigh.

Alice and Brenda both cackled with laughter.

"Ha, Baltic Avenue. You owe me one shoe," Alice said, a smile spread across her face.

Bill sighed, rolled his eyes, and began to untie his left shoe, shaking his head and chuckling.

"Alice draws first blood," Brenda joked, smiling.

"I think I am beginning to like this game," Alice stated, laughing.

"That's a terrible way to talk about my feet," Bill said, mock angrily and handed his shoe across the coffee table to Alice, who placed it on the floor beside her.

"Just wait until he lands on my old Kentucky home," Brenda nudged Alice and winked. They both giggled as Bill just laughed and shook his head.

"Well, heaven help you if you land on one of my hotels," Bill warned. They laughed.

"My turn," Brenda piped and picked up the dice. She rolled the dice across the game board. "Ooh, double sixes. I get to roll again," She looked at Alice and Bill with a wry smile.

"I think we are being hustled," Bill told Alice with a chuckle.

"I think you are right," Alice said, leaning back on the couch.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is going to be a long night," Brenda said, snickering.

Marcie hurried across the campgrounds, the rain pelting her red poncho, stinging her bare skin. She shivered from the freezing winds, and ran faster towards the bathhouse, her teeth chattering. She should have put on her pants. Damn, how could it have been so hot earlier today, and now it was icy cold.

Marcie approached the bathhouses, a pair of small, wooden buildings near the archery range. Marcie threw open the door to the girls bathhouse, and stepped into the warm, dry interior of the bathhouse. She peeled her wet poncho off of her body and threw it onto the ground. She shook off the chill of the rain and let the warmth of the bathhouse seep into her bones. The bathhouse was nice and clean; her and Jack had cleaned it up earlier that day. A row of sinks lined one wall, and a row of stalls lined another wall. The showers were straight ahead towards the back of the building.

Marcie stepped across the icy, concrete floor and entered one of the stalls, closing the flimsy wooden door behind her. She began to do her business, and sighed as her bladder was immediately relieved. Marcie looked around the stall as she finished, reading some of the writings on the walls. She assumed that Steve had neglected to tell Jack and Marcie about the graffiti on the stall walls. That would probably be a task for another day.

"40 yards to the Outhouse, by Willie Make-it," Marcie read off of the wall. "Come on, kids, you can do better than that,"

 _Creak._

The door to the bathhouse slowly opened.

Marcie looked up and listened, concerned.

"Jack? Jack?" she called.

No answer.

SLAM.

The door banged shut. Marcie jolted.

"Jesus, Jack!" Marcie cried. "What are you doing in here?"

No answer.

"Jack! Hello?" Marcie said. Still no reply.

Frustrated, Marcie threw open the stall door and stepped out into the bathhouse, looking around. There was no one in sight.

Hmm, Marcie thought. Maybe the wind blew the door open. That had to be what it was.

Marcie walked over to the sink and turned the knob. Water did not come out.

She tried another sink, and then another. None of them worked.

"I guess they forgot to fix the plumbing," Marcie said. Marcie glanced up at the mirror, checking herself out. Marcie began to imitate Katherine Hepburn. "When I looked into that mirror, I said I'd always be a maid. I said Lizzie; you'd always be plain,"

Marcie laughed at herself, and then fixed her hair, and made sure there was nothing in her teeth. She winked at herself, and then laughed.

All of a sudden, there was a loud noise. The sound of the shower curtains moving.

Like someone brushed against them.

Marcie turned her head towards the showers. And then, another noise. It was the sound of the metal shower rings sliding across the metal shower rod. Someone was opening the curtains.

"Jack? Ned? Come on, you guys," Marcie called.

There was no answer.

Marcie inched towards the back of the bathhouse heading towards the showers. One step at a time, she approached the showers. She walked through the doorway silently, peering around. There were five shower stalls, all concealed with a tattered blue curtain. Not a single one of them looked disturbed.

"Jack? Ned? Brenda?" Marcie called.

Still no answer.

"This isn't funny, Ned," Marcie berated.

Silence.

Marcie walked down to the first shower and ripped aside the curtain.

"Ollie Ollie infree!" Marcie exclaimed.

The shower stall was empty. A large, brown puddle had formed in the middle of the stall. The drain was clogged. Marcie crinkled her nose in disgust and pulled the curtain shut.

She approached the second stall, and opened it. Nothing.

The third one didn't hold anything either. Neither did the fourth. Finally, Marcie walked towards the fifth shower stall, and held up a trembling hand, and with her heart pounding in her chest, she yanked aside the shower curtain to reveal absolutely nothing, once again.

Marcie sighed sheepishly, and laughed at herself.

What she didn't see was the figure in a dark rain slicker walking up behind her.

"Must be your imagination," Marcie said to herself.

The hatchet rose high above her head behind her. She was oblivious.

Marcie turned around to face her killer. She stopped dead in her tracks as she saw the shadowy figure wielding the hatchet.

The missing hatchet from the tool shed.

Marcie's eyes widened and her mouth opened, unleashing a hellish, blood-curdling scream. Marcie lurched backwards in horror, cupping her hands to her mouth.

"NO! she shrieked, but it was too late. The attacker ignored her pleads, as the hatchet came down.

The blade of the hatchet sunk into her skull with a sickening crunching sound.

Marcie's lifeless corpse stumbled backwards into the fifth shower stall, her hands flailing wildly. Her hand grabbed at the curtain, and ripped it from the shower rod, bringing the shower curtain down on top of her bloody corpse.

The attacker disappeared into the stormy night. Marcie's corpse lay in a pool of blood, sprawled out on the floor of the fifth shower stall, the blood-stained, tattered shower curtain lying on top of her, the hatchet embedded deeply into the middle of her pretty face.

"Worst run of luck since Richard Nixon," Brenda said, as she pulled her shirt off, revealing a pink bra.

"Wow, this game is getting interesting," Bill said, trying not to stare at Brenda topless.

"It's alright, Bill, we are all friends here," Brenda said with a smile. "You could always call it quits if you want to.

"Nah, I'm good. After all, Brenda, you are two steps away from Pacific Avenue and Skin City," Bill joked. Alice stifled a grin.

"Ha, ha," Brenda retorted sarcastically, tossing her shirt to the side.

"Hey, Alice, go see if Jack left any of the beer for us," Brenda said.

"Sure thing. I'll be back. Try not to have too much fun, you two," Alice teased and strolled into the kitchen.

Thunder boomed and a streak of lightning tore across the sky like a jagged scepter, as the rain fell down even harder with every second. The trees thrashed wildly in the whipping wind.

The only source of light on the lonely, deserted road was a neon sign that flashed the words:

 **DINER-Delicious foods at low prices!**

A small country diner was nestled in the cover of the trees. A few cars were parked outside, and there were only two or three patrons seated at the counter. A middle-aged redheaded waitress wiped down the counters, and a tall, burly cook fried burgers in the back of the diner.

Headlights pierced through the darkness, and Steve Christy's beat up old Jeep drove into the parking lot of the diner, the tires crunching over the gravel. His Jeep pulled to a stop at the front of the diner, and Mr. Christy clambered out of his Jeep, a yellow rain slicker over his head. He slammed the Jeep door shut and ran into the diner, the rain pounding against the slicker.

He scrambled inside the diner, and shouted a curse as he shook off the wet from the rain.

"It's really coming down out there," Steve exclaimed as he hung his yellow slicker on the coat hook and sat at the counter.

"Oh, I know. How are you, Steve?" the redheaded waitress asked amiably.

"I'm good, I suppose. How are you, Sandy?" Steve asked. He obviously knew the waitress.

She flashed a crooked smile.

"I'm doing just fine," Sandy said, pulling out her notepad. "What can I get you?"

"I'll have one of Harvey's famous cheese danishes," Mr. Christy requested.

"Will do, Steve," Sandy said and walked back into the kitchen. "Hey, Harvey, whip up some of your danishes!"

"Sure thing, Sandy!" Harvey, the cook, answered from behind the grill.

"It will be about five minutes," Sandy said, walking back towards Steve.

"That's fine," Mr. Christy responded, and began to leaf through a newspaper. He glanced around the diner. There was an elderly couple seated in a booth near the far end of the diner, and a woman and her small child were seated at the counter. Sandy began to wipe down the counter again.

Steve had always hated coming into town. All of the locals always gave him strange looks, and talked about him when he wasn't looking. Just because he had decided to invest his time and money into Camp Crystal Lake.

What happened at Crystal Lake was a horrible thing, but it was twenty years ago. All of the locals were still clinging onto the past, and Mr. Christy was ready to start a new generation at the camp. It was all in the past. Some of the legend probably wasn't even true.

He planned to carry on what his father, John Christy, was trying to do.

Steve's thoughts were interrupted by a crack of lightning, and he glanced up at Sandy, who was busy cleaning the granite countertop. Sandy glanced over at Steve and smiled warmly. Steve smiled back. She was the only one in town who didn't think Steve was a lunatic for opening the camp again.

"I can't stay for long," Steve broke the silence.

"Oh, don't go back out there in that mess. It's supposed to storm all night," Sandy protested.

"I have to. I have six new counselors up at the camp. They shouldn't be out in the wilderness, if you know what I mean. Babes in the woods, in every sense of the word," Mr. Christy said.

"I see," Sandy said, chortling. "Can I get you some coffee?

"That would be swell," Mr. Christy replied, turning the page of his newspaper.

Sandy ambled over towards the coffee maker, and picked up the empty coffee pot and headed over towards the sink to fill it up with water.

The dice rolled across the game board, landing perfectly center on Northumberland Avenue.

"Oh, god no!" Alice exclaimed, bringing her hands up to her face with embarrassment. Her face flushed bright pink.

"It's not much, but I think I can call it home," Bill stated, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair triumphantly.

"Come on, Alice, take it off!" Brenda cried with a laugh, taking a long swig of her beer.

Alice shook her head, humiliated.

"Come on, Alice, you have to," Bill joked.

She couldn't do this. Not in front of a boy she liked. But she had to. It was part of the game. Ok, think, Alice told herself. Well, it's not much different from a bikini top. Bill had already seen her in a bikini. So it was fine.

Alice gave in, and reached down to unbutton her shirt, when all of a sudden, there was a huge gust of wind and with a loud _WHOOSH_ and a loud, resounding _BANG,_ the cabin door blew open with such force that it almost shook the entire main cabin.

Brenda leapt out of her skin, spinning around to face the door. Her beverage flew out of her hand and landed near the fireplace, spilling beer all over the hardwood floor. Alice let out a cry.

The wind rushed into the cabin, blowing all of the Monopoly money off of the table, scattering it all around the cabin. The game pieces flew throughout the room, creating a wild moment of chaos, as Bill raced to grab the door.

"Oh no, grab the money!" Alice screamed as her arms flailed around, trying to grab the money that was flying around the room.

Bill slammed the door shut, and clicked the latch, and a collective sigh of relief filled the room.

The room was in quite disarray. Brenda's beer was spilled all over the floor, Monopoly money was scattered all around the room, and the game pieces had distributed everywhere except the coffee table.

"God, look at this mess!" Brenda exclaimed.

"That wind is horrible! Poor Jack and Marcie, I hope they got inside before the storm," Alice remarked.

Bill began picking up the pieces of the money, as Brenda picked up her spilled beer can.

"I will go get some napkins," Alice said and strolled into the kitchen. Bill walked around the room, gathering the money and placed a messy stack of bills on the table. Brenda sat back on the couch and let out an exasperated moan.

"Oh, drat, I think I left the windows in my cabin open," Brenda proclaimed. "I guess we will have to finish this game some other night."

"I guess so," Alice said as she walked into the living room, carrying a wad of napkins. Alice bent down and began to wipe the beer off of the floor.

"And just when it was getting interesting," Brenda added with a smirk. "I'm going to bed. See you guys," Brenda stated as she stood up, and began to put her shirt on.

"Goodnight," Bill replied.

"Night," said Alice.

"Hey, Bill, I don't want to walk in this storm alone. Would you mind walking me to my cabin?" Brenda inquired, grabbing her raincoat.

"Sure thing. I will be right back, Alice," Bill assured.

"Ok, bye," Alice responded from her kneeling position. Bill grabbed his red poncho, and him and Brenda left the main cabin, securely closing the door behind them.

Alice finished cleaning the mess that Brenda had made, and took her half empty can of beer and strolled into the kitchen.

The rain drummed heavily on the glass windows of the diner, and thunder boomed outside. The diner was empty now, and the only sound was the buzzing of a fluorescent light hanging above the counter. Steve scraped the last bit of his Danish off of his plate, and forked it into his mouth. He wiped his fingers and his mustache on his napkin, and stood up.

"Will that be all for you, Steve?" Sandy, the waitress, asked, walking up to the cash register.

"Yes, Ma'm. I got to get back up the camp. I just hope the counselors don't go out in this weather," Steve stated.

"Oh, I hear you," Sandy proclaimed.

"What do I owe you?" Steve asked, reaching for his wallet.

"Just a night on the town," Sandy joked with a playful wink.

"Oh, come on, Sandy, you know what I mean," Steve said with a hearty smile.

"It will be two dollars and a quarter," Sandy informed him. Steve dug into his wallet and fished out a five and gave it to the waitress. She rang up the money, and scooped out change from the register.

"Here's your change, Steve," Sandy said, as Steve walked towards the door.

Steve turned around, and gestured towards her with his hand.

"Ah, you can keep it,"

"Thank you, Steve. Drive safe!" Sandy called, as Steve put on his raincoat.

"You too! Goodnight, Sandy," Steve said, and left the diner. He hurried through the blinding rain, pulling the hood of his yellow slicker taut over his bushy hair and struggling to put his wallet back into pocket. He fished out his keys, and unlocked the door of his Jeep, and slid into the driver's seat. He shivered from the rain, and closed the driver's side door shut.

"Sweet Jesus, what a storm," he murmured to himself, and started up the Jeep.

The Jeep roared to life, and Steve threw the Jeep into drive and sped out of the parking lot and raced down the highway, the neon sign of the diner disappearing in the distance.

A deafening clap of thunder growled in the dark clouds, and another huge bolt of lightning flashed, like skeletal fingers of incandescence reaching down to stroke the Earth. The wind slammed against the weak, wooden walls of the cabin, and the shutters beside the windows clapped back and forth furiously. The rain fell and fell endlessly, as thunder boomed again.

Brenda and Bill made their way across the campgrounds, huddling tightly inside their ponchos.

"Where is Ned, and Jack and Marcie?" Brenda shouted over the monstrous clamor of the storm.

"They probably settled in for the night," Bill said.

"I sure hope so," Brenda exclaimed. "I'm sorry; I brought you out in this mess,"

"No, it's alright. You don't need to walk alone," Bill responded.

"Yeah, but now you have to walk alone back to your cabin," Brenda said as they approached Brenda's cabin.

"I will be fine," Bill stated.

They walked up to the wooden door of the cabin, and Brenda opened the door, and Bill and Brenda scurried inside, closing the door behind them.

"Wow, it's raining cats and dogs out there," Brenda proclaimed, peeling off her wet poncho.

"Tell me about it," Bill said as he sat down in a chair by the door.

"You are welcome to stay for a few more minutes. You don't have to go back out there in that storm," Brenda said.

"No, I really should get back to Alice. She's all alone in that lonely cabin," Bill replied as he stood to his feet.

All of a sudden, Brenda's entire demeanor changed. She began to unbutton her blouse, until she revealed her pink bra.

"No, Bill, you don't have to do that," she said flirtatiously, and she unbuttoned her blouse completely. She threw her blouse onto the bed, and let her damp, brown hair fall down her back. She gave Bill a coquettish look.

"Brenda, what are you doing?" Bill questioned, perplexed.

Brenda slowly walked over towards Bill seductively, her expression saying it all.

"You can stay here for the night, if you'd like. It's cold outside, but I'm sure you could warm me up in here," Brenda impishly grinned from ear to ear and leaned in.

Bill and Brenda's lips pressed tightly together. She ran her fingers through Bill's dark hair. Bill could not resist. She was gorgeous.

He kissed her back, passionately, with emotion and lust, as Brenda stood there. Yes, she had him where she wanted.

All of a sudden, Bill pushed her away, finally resisting temptation and looked at her, dumbfounded.

"Brenda, what the hell are you doing?" Bill cried.

"What do you mean?" Brenda asked, stroking his chest.

Bill slapped her hand away and moved for the door. Brenda grabbed him by the arm.

"No, Bill, stay," Brenda pleaded.

"I can't believe this happened," Bill exclaimed.

"Come on, Alice doesn't have to know," Brenda stated, beginning to unbutton her bra.

"Why are you dragging Alice into this? What does she have to do with anything?"

"Wow, you are more of an idiot that I thought," Brenda said, sitting down on her bed.

"What are you talking about?" Bill asked. He was absolutely confused beyond any doubt.

"Alice is in love with you. Can't you see the way she looks at you? She really likes you," Brenda explained, rebuttoning her bra.

Bill was stunned. He let out a loud moan of frustration, and began to pace back and forth. Brenda sat on the bed, watching him, waiting for him to make a move.

"You have got to be joking. This is not happening right now," Bill exclaimed.

"What's the matter with you?" Brenda inquired, standing up and walking over to Bill.

"What do you mean 'What's the matter'?" Bill cried, throwing his hands in the air.

"Isn't this what you wanted? You have been hitting on me this entire week!" Brenda cried.

"What?! No! God, no!" Bill exclaimed. "You are drunk. I think you had a little too much beer,"

"I'm not drunk," Brenda said indignantly. "Look, I couldn't hold it in any longer. It kills me the way you and Alice look at each other. I have loved you this entire time. Come on, stay with me tonight, Alice doesn't have to know,"

"You are a heartless bitch, you know that?" Bill said.

"Excuse me?"

"Alice is your friend, and you know she likes me, yet you still are trying to hit on me!" Bill explained angrily.

"Well, Alice didn't have the guts to make a move. I, however, am not afraid. Who do you want to be with?" Brenda asked.

Bill flew into a rage. His face begin to turn a shade of dark red.

"I don't want to be with anybody, don't you understand? I didn't come to Crystal Lake to meet girls! I came to get college credit, and to get away from home for a while," Bill explained.

There was a moment of awkward silence as Bill continued to pace. It was the loudest silence any of them had ever experienced. Brenda let out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry. I thought you had been coming on to me this whole time. Why do you think I chose to play strip Monopoly? I wanted to turn you on," Brenda said.

"In front of Alice? God, you are sick!" Bill cried. "I really misjudged you, Brenda."

"Ok, wait. Just hold on. How about we just forget this ever happened," Brenda stated.

"Forget this ever happened? I have two girls who have this insane crush on me, and one of them just tried to get me in bed, and you want me to forget all about it?!" Bill proclaimed, perturbed.

Bill began to walk towards the door.

"Wait, you aren't going to tell Alice, are you?" Brenda asked.

"You bet your ass I'm going to tell her," Bill responded nastily, turning around to face Brenda, who stood there in her bra.

"You are going to regret it if you do. Alice is very sensitive. Do you really want to hurt her, by telling her that her friend betrayed her and made a move on the guy that she likes? She is leaving in a week. Let her have the best week of her life. Don't tell her. Please," Brenda begged.

Bill shook his head with utter disgust and loathing.

"I can't believe you," Bill muttered.

"I'm sorry. I know it was wrong. I should have waited until Alice left. But I couldn't control myself. It was all my fault. Now, can we forget this ever happened, and just let Alice be happy?" Brenda suggested.

Bill didn't say a word. He snatched up his poncho, gave Brenda another dirty look, and left, banging the door behind him.

There was a long period of silence, as Brenda sat down the edge of her bed, and began to process what she had done.

"Just great, Brenda. Now look what you did" she uttered to herself, and threw herself back onto the bed.

The fire sizzled low in the stone hearth, licking at the charred wood and crackling and gurgling back to Alice, as she jabbed at the logs with the fireplace poker. She placed the poker back in the rack, and pulled her jacket closer to her body, shivering from the cold. She knelt down by the fire, embracing the warm, orange glow that the flames emitted.

Alice rose to her feet and sat on the couch. She reached over and picked up Bill's guitar and sat it in her lap. She began to halfheartedly strum a few chords. She knew a thing or two about guitar from lessons when she was younger, but still, she wasn't the best musician.

Alice set down the guitar and walked over towards the big window that looked out onto the front porch. The rain was coming down harder than ever now, thrumming against the glass windowpane. The wind was whipping towards the east, thrashing the branches of the trees and slamming against the old walls of the main cabin, causing them to groan uneasily with every gust.

Alice began to head back towards the couch, when the front door suddenly swung open and Bill stepped in, drenched from head to toe, wearing the red poncho. He leaned against the door and let out a sigh.

"Bill, what's wrong?" Alice questioned. Bill did not reply.

He could barely look Alice in the eye.

"Bill, is Brenda alright?"

Should he tell her? Should he come out and tell her everything? And break her heart? Tell her that the girl who has been her friend this whole time, just completely betrayed her trust? Bill didn't have the heart to do it. He strolled back over to the armchair by the fire, and sat down, taking off his wet poncho.

"Yeah, she's fine," Bill lied through his teeth. "The storm is stressing me out, I guess, that's all,"

"Oh, I see," Alice responded and sat down on the couch, gazing into the fire popping in the embers.

There was a brief moment of silence, as Bill relaxed in the armchair. Alice stood up and poked at the fire again with the fireplace poker, and then began to walk into the kitchen.

"I'm going to make some tea, Bill. Want some?" Alice asked, stopping in the kitchen doorway.

"Sure, that would be nice," Bill replied, shifting to a more comfortable position in the armchair.

"Ok," Alice said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Chapter 10

The long, lonely, meandering road that led to Camp Crystal Lake was endless, it seemed, as Steve Christy's eyes squinted to see through the blinding rain. Lightning streaked across the sky, and leaves blew violently across the road, some becoming plastered to the windshield by the rain. Steve flipped his windshield wipers onto high, and watched as the rain on the windshield sloshed from side to side.

"Can't see a damn thing," Mr. Christy muttered. He hoped he could make it back to the camp soon. He promised the counselors he would back by nightfall. He glanced at his watch. It was nearing nine o'clock.

He sped around a curve in the road, getting farther and farther into darkness, the wilderness enveloping. His headlights sliced through the blinding rain like knives through butter, and his tires screeched across the slick, wet asphalt.

All of a sudden, there was a loud rumble from the Jeep's engine. A horrible, sputtering sound.

"Oh, no," Steve mumbled, slowly realizing.

To his horror, the Jeep began to slow to a stop. Steve Christy pulled over to the side of the road, and the Jeep sputtered to a slow halt. Mr. Christy tried to start the Jeep up again. It sputtered, once, twice, and then died with a rumbling of the engine.

Mr. Christy cursed loudly, and slammed his hand down on the dashboard. He tried to start the Jeep again, and it failed once again.

He was screwed. He was out on a lonely road in the middle of nowhere. How many miles did he have to go to Camp Crystal Lake? He didn't know. It could be dozens of miles. He couldn't walk, especially in this weather.

All of a sudden, like an answered prayer, headlights appeared, coming from the same direction that Steve was coming. It was a vehicle.

"Oh, thank God," Mr. Christy said to himself, and climbed out of his dead Jeep, banging the door shut behind him.

The car was speeding around the bend pretty fast. Mr. Christy stood by his Jeep, and waved his arms wildly in the air, the rain pelting his head and neck, and he winced as he struggled to make himself seen. As the car approached Steve, he could make out the car. It was a police car, marked with the white and blue markings, and the flashing lights on the roof.

The police officer driving the police car slowed the police car to a stop, and Mr. Christy hustled up to the passenger side window, and waited as the officer rolled down the window.

"What happened to you, Steve? What are you doing out here?" the officer asked. The police officer and Mr. Christy knew each other from some official business out at Crystal Lake a few years back. It was Sgt. Tierney. Steve was glad that he flagged down somebody he knew.

"Oh, you are really saving my backside, here, Tierney," Mr. Christy stated. "The Jeep broke down, and I have to get back to camp,"

"I thought that old Jeep could go through anything," the sergeant chuckled.

"Obviously not in this storm," Mr. Christy said, wiping rain out of his eyes.

"Here, I'll give you a lift," Sgt. Tierney offered and leaned over to unlock the passenger side door.

"Well, I appreciate that. I'll have a counselor pick up the Jeep in the morning," Mr. Christy explained, and climbed into the police car, closing the door beside him.

"No sweat, Steve," the sergeant said cordially, shifted the police car into drive, and sped off down the road, leaving the Jeep sitting in the darkness.

The storm raged on back at the campgrounds. Thunder cracked, and lightning flashed, as leaves blew around ferociously, the wind whipping up against the walls of the cabins.

The door to the girl's bathhouse swung open, and a dark shadow stepped quietly into the room. It was Brenda, shivering from the cold, carrying a bag of toiletries, dressed in a pink robe. She walked up to the sink, shuddering as her feet touched the frigid concrete. She looked at herself in the mirror.

How could Bill not want this? She was attractive. Thin, brunette, she had it all. What was so unappealing about her to Bill? She had tried her hardest to come on to him this entire week. She fell in love with him the minute she saw him. But then Alice had to get in the way. She didn't have the heart to tell Alice that she liked him too. Alice just seemed so sweet and innocent, the way she talked about him, almost like a lovesick puppy. Brenda didn't want to hurt her. But it's a dog eat dog world. And Alice didn't have the guts to say anything about it.

Brenda did have the guts to try to make a move. And it failed miserably.

Why had Bill not given in? Did he like Alice? Or did he like Brenda? Brenda sighed with annoyance, and dug into her toiletries bag, searching for her shower supplies. She did nothing but try to give him a good night. She wanted to bring Bill into her cabin out of the rain, and give him a gorgeous girl to wake up beside in the morning, but obviously, he didn't want that. He didn't want her. She felt bad for betraying Alice, but Alice was just too nice and shy. To get guys, you had to be overt and pushy; you couldn't just sit back and just wait around for Mr. Nice Guy. You had to go get the guy you wanted. She had to think of a plan.

If Bill told Alice about what she had done, Brenda would just tell Alice that Bill was the one who came onto her. She would say that when Bill took Brenda back to the cabin, Bill went crazy and started kissing her. Yes, it was perfect.

Brenda grabbed her shampoo and soap and walked into the showers, where she stepped into the second shower stall and turned on the hot water. She slipped off her pink robe, and tossed it outside. She let the steamy, hot water pour over her naked body, her dark hair flowing down her back.

She sighed as the hot water relaxed her sore muscles from lifting all of those targets for the archery range. She was a few minutes into her shower, when a loud noise interrupted her thoughts. Brenda turned her head towards the curtain.

"Hello? Who's there?" Brenda called. Brenda turned off the hot water, and stepped out of the shower.

There was complete silence. Brenda stood there and listened for a few more minutes. Still, she heard nothing. Brenda grabbed her towel, and dried herself off, and then slipped on her pink robe. Thunder rumbled outside and the rain pitter-pattered on the roof.

Brenda walked up to the mirror, and turned the faucet. Water failed to pour from the faucet.

"Oh, great," Brenda muttered.

Brenda bent down, and examined the pipes above the sink. There was a small metal knob near the base of the sink. She twisted it. Then, Brenda turned the faucet on and clear, clean water poured from the faucet.

"Ha, well what do you know?" Brenda said to herself with a laugh, and began to brush her teeth. She cleaned her face, and brushed her hair, and gathered her things to leave, when a noise caught her attention. She turned towards the direction of the sound.

It came from the showers.

Brenda stared at the showers for a moment, and listened.

"Hello? Bill? Who is there?" she called. Maybe Bill had come back for a second try. A grin spread across Brenda's face.

"Bill? Is that you?" Brenda asked seductively. "We can still go back to my cabin, if you want,"

Silence.

"Fine then, asshole," Brenda muttered, and walked out of the bathhouse into the rainy night.

Brenda pushed open the door to her cabin, closing the door and locking it behind her. She shook off the rainwater, sighing to herself.

"What a storm," she thought and moved over towards her dresser. She slid off her robe, and dug around in her drawer for underwear. She slid on panties, and then slid on a white nightgown.

Brenda walked over towards her bed, and leaned down to dig for something in her backpack. She unzipped the side pouch, and pulled out the book that she was reading, carefully bookmarked where she stopped last. Brenda sat on her bed, pulled aside the blanket, and slipped underneath the covers, laying back on her pillow, and holding the book up, and began to read.

Although she couldn't focus because of Bill, and the pounding rain outside, she still tried to force her mind to read what was on the page. But it was useless. Brenda put the book on her nightstand, and lay back on her pillow, thinking about what all had happened tonight.

All of a sudden, there was a sharp bang on the door. Brenda jolted in her bed, and turned sharply towards the door. She listened. Now the only sound was the rain outside.

"Who is it?" Brenda called.

No reply.

"Who is it?" Brenda called again.

Still no answer.

Brenda threw aside her blanket, and walked towards the door. She opened the cabin door and stepped out onto the porch. She looked left. Then right. Surveying the campgrounds. There was nobody in sight.

Then something caught her eye. Something glinting in the moonlight. Something silver. It was hanging from the tree in front of the cabin. Hanging by a long, thick rope.

Brenda stepped off of the porch, her bare toes squishing in the mud. She approached the object dangling from the tree branch, and her expression contorted into confusion, as she saw what the object was.

It was a knife. A long, sharp kitchen knife. Dangling from the tree by a long, thick rope.

"What the hell?" Brenda muttered, feeling the blade of the knife. She held her fingers up to her face. They were bright red.

The knife was stained with blood.

Brenda looked around to see who was outside. There was no one in sight. Was this one of Ned's weird jokes?

"Alright, guys, come on out!" Brenda shouted over the storm, her voice disappearing in the wind. "This isn't funny!"

"Hello! Ned? Marcie? Jack!?"

There was nobody outside.

Brenda took one last look at the kitchen knife hanging from the tree, and raced back inside her cabin. She closed the door behind her, and locked it.

"What is going on?" she said to herself.

BANG.

There was another loud noise, coming from the back of the cabin. It was coming from outside. Like someone was banging on the wall.

Brenda's eyes widened. She stood in the middle of the room and listened. A few minutes passed. There was not another noise.

"Ned, if you are trying to scare me, I swear…" Brenda mumbled to herself.

Just then, a faint noise came from outside. Barely audible. It was a child's voice.

And it was saying _Help me!_

Brenda's breath caught in her throat, and she looked towards the door. It sounded far away. Like someone calling her from a distance.

The voice called again. _Help me please!_ It sounded like a child. It was a pitiful cry, a plea for help. An agonizing sound.

Brenda ran for the door, and threw it open. She stepped outside and listened.

The wind was carrying the sound perfectly. Now she heard it clear as day. It was a child's voice screaming _Help me! Help me please!_

Someone needed help. They sounded hurt.

"Hello!? Who are you?!" Brenda screamed over the whipping of the wind.

The voice called again. _Over here! Help me!_

Brenda strained her ears, struggling to hear over the roaring storm.

It sounded like it was coming from the archery range.

"Hold on! Stay there! I'm coming!" Brenda yelled, and raced back inside the cabin. She snatched the lantern off of her desk, and hurried back outside, closing the cabin door behind her. She began to head in the direction of the archery range, the rain stinging her face like salt-tipped needles, and the flaps of her nightgown flapping in the wind.

"Hello! Say something again! Where are you!?" Brenda yelled over the storm.

The wind slapped at her face, her hair was wet and stringy and falling around her face, and she stumbled across the wet ground, holding the lantern up, trying to see through the rain that flew at her.

The voice called again. It was a desperate wail. _Help me! Help me please!_

Brenda made her way across the campground. She was sure it was coming for the archery range. She didn't really know why she was going towards the voice. It was beckoning her, almost swaying her into some kind of trance. The voice mixed in with the hissing of the wind almost hypnotized her.

 _Help!_ It screamed again.

The wind screeched in return, as lightning streaked across the sky, and thunder clapped.

"I'm coming! Stay there!" Brenda screamed.

Brenda approached the archery range; the small wooden shooting veranda appeared in the distance. Brenda made her way onto the archery range, heading towards one of the targets. She stopped in the middle of the archery range, spinning a full circle, looking for whoever was calling her. She didn't see anyone. It was dark. She could barely see two feet in front of her.

"Hello?! Hello?! Where are you?!" she called.

Brenda couldn't hear the voice anymore. All she heard was her own panicked breathing and the howling of the wind.

"Hello! Hello!? Hello?!" Brenda yelled again. She heard nothing but the storm.

Brenda looked up at the shooting stand, and she squinted as she tried to make out something. Someone was standing on the veranda, staring at Brenda.

"Hello?! Who's there?" Brenda called, squinting to see through the rain. She wiped rain out of her eyes, and held up the lantern. She could definitely make out a figure through the rain, standing on the veranda. The dark, shadowy outline of a person.

All of a sudden, a bright light hit Brenda in the face, blinding her. She staggered backwards. Someone had flipped the switch on the archery range lights, causing the large, fluorescent light to shine directly on Brenda. The archery range was like a stage, and Brenda was the star of the show, right in the spotlight.

"What are you doing? Ned, is that you?! Come on, this isn't funny!" Brenda shrieked, fear rising in her voice. "Just turn that off and cut it out, I'm serious!"

Just then, there was the loud metallic TWANG of an arrow being fired.

Brenda never saw it coming.

The arrow ripped into her flesh, tearing through the middle of her torso, impaling her chest.

Brenda doubled over in shock and pain, as blood spewed from the wound and dribbled from her mouth and down her chin.

Just then, another arrow was fired, and this time, the arrow pierced the flesh of her shoulder. Brenda staggered backwards, blood gushing from the wound and mixing in the rain that stained her gown. There was another TWANG that resounded through the night, and a third arrow was fired into her stomach. Brenda let out a horrendous, bone-chilling scream of agony from the bottom of her soul, as she collapsed to her knees, the life draining out of her, as the assailant on the shooting stand lowered the bow, admiring his handiwork.

Alice jolted her head towards the front door, her eyes wide with uneasiness.

"Bill, did you hear that?" she asked apprehensively, and rose to her feet, carrying her mug of tea with her over towards the window beside the front door.

"Hear what?" Bill asked, turning around in his chair.

"You didn't hear that?" Alice questioned, looking back at him.

"I don't see how you can hear anything over that storm," Bill said, sipping his tea.

"I heard a scream, I know I did. It sounded like Brenda," Alice said.

"It was probably the wind," Bill assured and stood to his feet.

"No, I'm serious, Bill, I heard someone scream. And look, Bill! Somebody has turned the lights on at the archery range," Alice said, pointing out the window at the white light at the far end of the camp.

"What? Let me see," Bill said, walking over towards the window. Bill pulled aside the curtain and peered out the window.

"I don't see anything," he said.

Alice gazed over his shoulder, and looked outside. The white light was gone.

"Well, they are off now," Alice declared.

Bill moved away from the window, and Alice grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

"Bill, I am not crazy. I heard a scream outside," Alice said, her face awash with concern.

"I believe you, but it was probably just the wind howling, or maybe it was an animal," Bill suggested.

"No, I know what I heard," Alice said, looking back towards the window. "Bill, something strange is going on around here,"

"What do you mean?" Bill asked.

"I mean, when is the last time we heard from Jack, or Marcie, or Ned?" Alice proposed. She glanced at the wall clock above the fireplace. "And it's already nine thirty. Where is Mr. Christy?"

"All of the other counselors probably settled into their cabins for the night. Mr. Christy may have gotten caught up in town. There is an explanation for all of this," Bill assured.

"I still think we need to go check on them, Bill. I mean, this storm is really crazy, they could be hurt somewhere," Alice said.

"Calm down-"Bill started to say, but Alice interrupted.

"Bill, I am not going to bed until I know that everyone else is alright," Alice said, looking Bill straight in the eyes.

There was a pause, and Bill sighed.

"Ok, I will go check on them," he said, grabbing his red poncho off of the floor.

"No, I'm coming with you," Alice said, grabbing her raincoat off the coat rack.

Bill picked up his poncho, and slid it on, and then looked at Alice with a desperate face.

"Just stay here, it will be much-"Bill explained, but Alice stopped him midsentence once more.

"I want to come with you," she affirmed, donning her yellow raincoat.

Bill couldn't argue.

"Alright, alright, fine," Bill gave in, and headed for the door. He yanked the door open and stepped outside onto the porch. He looked back at Alice, who was walking into the kitchen.

"Where are you going?!" Bill called into the cabin.

No answer.

After a few moments, Alice walked outside with a flashlight, and closed the main cabin door behind her.

"Do you want to hold the flashlight?" Alice asked as they stood on the porch, the rain pouring off of the roof in huge droplets.

"Yeah, sure. Now let's go," Bill said, took the flashlight, and Alice and Bill walked off towards the counselors cabins, lightning flickering over their heads in the sky.

"Friday the 13th. Sure is an unlucky day for a police officer," Sergeant Tierney spoke up after a long ride of silence. The police car sped down the lonesome, winding road, the windshield wipers sweeping back and forth in big, wide arcs, rain spattering against the glass.

"Why is that?" Mr. Christy asked.

"We keep statistics, you know? Tonight is the worst of all. Not only is it Friday the 13th, but it's a full moon. Full moons do weird, freaky stuff to people. Drives them nuts. We always have more murders, more rapes, and more robberies when it's a full moon," the sergeant said.

"Ah, you are just making science out of a coincidence," Mr. Christy proclaimed.

"Maybe," Sgt. Tierney responded.

There was a pause, as Sgt. Tierney drove in silence for a few more minutes.

Stg. Tierney was a big, burly man in his mid-forties with dark, thinning hair, marked by a prominent bald patch at the base of his skull. Mr. Christy always thought that Tierney wasn't menacing enough to be a police officer. Maybe a security guard, or a mall cop, but not a sergeant.

"You know, Ralph was out your way, preaching about Camp Blood," Sgt. Tierney declared.

"Oh great. That's just what I need. Crazy Ralph ruining my reputation," Steve said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"We finally found him wandering around the mill. Brought him back home to his wife. She was a nervous wreck," the sergeant explained.

The police car drove past a sign on the right that read "Camp Crystal Lake-3 miles".

After driving a few more minutes, the CB radio beeped on, and a call buzzed in. A voice came over the radio.

"Sergeant Tierney, come in, Sergeant Tierney," the voice said

Sgt. Tierney picked up the handheld microphone and answered the call.

"This is Sergeant Tierney speaking, over,"

Through the static, a voice said: "Rescue squad, we have a wreck over near mile marker 17, possible male, three trapped inside the vehicle, maybe more, head on, over"

"Roger that, estimated arrival, fifteen minutes," the sergeant responded back into the walkie-talkie.

Sgt. Tierney screeched the police car to a stop, and looked sympathetically over at Mr. Christy.

"Sorry, Steve, I got to let you out here," the sergeant affirmed.

"Sure thing. Thanks for the ride," Mr. Christy said, and opened the passenger side door. He clambered out of the passenger seat, pulling the hood of his slicker over his head.

"Night, Steve. Hope you make it back," the sergeant said.

"Night," Steve responded and closed the door shut. Sergeant Tierney made a U-turn, flipped on his sirens, and sped off in the opposite direction, the sound of his flashing sirens drowned out with the howling of the wind, and soon, the red and blue lights disappeared into the night. Steve stood there, alone, freezing in the icy rain, for a moment, processing what to do next. The only thing he could do was trek back to camp. It was only half of a mile.

Steve sighed, shoved his hands into the pockets of his raincoat, and started walking.

Bill and Alice climbed the steps to the porch of Jack's cabin, approaching the door, waving the flashlight back and forth. The wind swirled wildly around them, and Alice huddled against Bill, as he outstretched his hand and knocked on the cabin door.

"Marcie!? Jack?" Bill called through chattering teeth. "You guys in there!?"

There was no answer from inside. Bill gently pushed open the door and shone the flashlight into the dark interior of the cabin. They stepped into the warmth of the cabin, and Alice closed the door behind them. Bill moved through the dark cabin, shining the flashlight around the room.

Alice groped the wall for the light switch and found it, switching it on and illuminating the room.

The cabin was empty.

"Where are they?" Alice pondered aloud.

Bill shone the flashlight over on Jack's bed. His suitcase lay on the bed, completely untouched.

"He hasn't even unpacked yet," Bill noted.

"This is really weird. Where could they be?" Alice implored, crossing her arms.

"I don't know. Maybe they are in mine and Ned's cabin. Come on," Bill declared and walked towards the door. He opened the door and Alice and Bill left Jack's cabin, closing the door behind them.

 _Knock. Knock._

"Neddy! Hey, Ned! Are you in there?" Bill yelled through the screeching of the storm. There was no reply. Bill nudged the door open, and walked into the cabin, Alice following closely behind him.

"Ned?! Jack?" Alice called as they stepped further into the dark cabin. Bill flicked on the light.

The cabin was also empty. The beds were all neatly made. Not a single thing looked disturbed. Ned's backpack and his duffel bag lay beside one of the bunk beds, untouched.

"Where is everybody?" Alice said, scanning the cabin.

"It looks like Ned hasn't even come back to his cabin," Bill stated, scratching his head.

"Bill, something really weird is going on," Alice said. "I told you, they are probably-"

Just then, Alice's sentences were interrupted by the lights flickering on and off. They buzzed and wavered again, and then stopped.

"Damn, the generator's acting up again," Bill muttered, walking towards the door.

"Wait, Bill, I really want to make sure Brenda's alright," Alice begged, tugging Bill's sleeve.

"Ok, look, take a deep breath," Bill consoled her, gently holding both sides of her face and looking into her eyes. "Everything is going to be alright, alright? I will go check the generator; you go to Brenda's cabin and check on her, okay?"

Alice nodded with big, fearful doe eyes, and watched as Bill walked to the door. He stopped halfway, and turned around to look at her.

"Meet me back at the main cabin," Bill said. "Here, take the flashlight,"

Bill handed Alice the flashlight, and she took it gingerly in her hands.

Alice nodded with understanding, and watched as Bill left the cabin, the door banging shut behind him. Get a hold of yourself, Alice, she told herself. She always got worked up over nothing. This is going to be something you are going to laugh about tomorrow. Just take a deep breath, she comforted herself.

Alice exhaled, and then inhaled, and walked out of the cabin, closing the door behind her. Her blond hair flew into her face, and she brushed it aside, as the icy wind hit her like a truck. She winced as the rain slapped at her bare skin, and with the flashlight waving erratically across the campgrounds, Alice jogged towards Brenda's cabin.

She made her way up onto the porch, and pushed open the wooden door into the cabin.

"Brenda!" Alice called as she entered the cabin.

She shone the flashlight around, even though the light was on. The cabin was empty. Brenda was nowhere in sight. Alice inched over towards Brenda's bed, shining the flashlight over towards it.

The blanket had been thrown off the bed, and Brenda's book lay on the floor near the bed. But Alice was focused on something else.

Something was lying on top of the bed. Something that caused Alice's blood to turn cold.

A blood-stained axe lay on the bed, partly covered up with the blanket. It had a long wooden handle and a silver blade-sharp as hell, and smeared with bright, red blood. Alice couldn't take her eyes off of it.

"Oh my god," Alice muttered. She reached down and picked up the axe, examining it. What in the hell was going on? Alice thought to herself. If this was some kind of joke, it sure was a scary one.

With the axe in one hand, and the flashlight in another, Alice raced out the door, not even bothering to close the door behind her. She clambered down the porch steps and started to run, when something made her stop dead in her tracks. It was right in front of her face.

A kitchen knife dangling from the tree, suspended from a rope tied to a huge tree branch. The blade of the knife was stained with blood, although the rain had washed most it off. What kind of a joke was this? Alice pondered to herself. She had no idea what to think. Too many things were going through her mind at once; fear, and confusion.

Alice stared at the knife for a few moments, processing what she was seeing, and then dashed off into the night.

Alice sprinted towards the main cabin, her chest heaving up and down, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She gripped the axe tightly in one hand, and the flashlight in another, the white beam of the light waving frantically back and forth as she ran. Alice stumbled up the wet, grassy slope towards the main cabin, climbed onto the porch, and threw open the door to the main cabin, hurrying inside. She banged the door shut behind her, and leaned against it, catching her breath.

What was going on? All of her new friends were missing. There was a bloody axe in Brenda's bed, and a knife hanging from a tree outside. It was like something from some weird horror flick. Alice's thoughts were soon interrupted when there were loud, booming footsteps on the front porch. Alice stepped away from the door, and the door was thrown open, and Bill rushed in, lightning illuminating the outline of his muscular figure. Bill closed the door and took a deep breath.

"Well, the generator's fine," Bill stated, his chest heaving up and down. Alice stood there for a second, holding the axe and the flashlight. Bill looked up at Alice, and his eyes went straight to the blood-soaked axe in Alice's hand.

"Where did you get that?" Bill asked, confused.

"I found this in Brenda's cabin. Bill, I think there is something really wrong here," Alice said, her voice trembling from fear.

Bill's eyes stared intently at the blood-stained hatchet, mesmerized by the razor-sharp blade.

"This has to be one of Ned's sick jokes," Bill rationalized.

"Do you really think he would do something like this?" Alice asked.

Bill didn't have an answer to that. His eyes looked up at the ceiling precariously as a huge crash of thunder rattled the weak cabin walls.

"Bill, I think we need to call someone," Alice suggested, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

There was a moment of silence, as Bill processed everything that was racing through his mind. He ran his hands through this dark, wavy hair, and let out a disturbed sigh.

"Come on," Bill finally said through the roaring of the thunder. He moved for the door.

"Where are we going?" Alice asked frantically.

"We are going to the office, we are going to call somebody," Bill said.

"Ok," Alice responded, and with the axe and flashlight in her hand, she followed Bill out the door.

The rickety, wooden arch read: "Camp Crystal Lake".

Steve Christy had made it.

It wasn't that bad of a walk. But his knees were still aching, and the rain was stinging his eyes and he had fallen knee deep in a gopher hole, and he was caked with mud.

He wiped the rain off of his eyeglasses, and squinted through the blinding rain. He walked underneath the arch and began to trek down the dirt road towards the camp. Thunder roared overhead, and another bolt of lightning ripped across the sky with a horrendous sound. He hoped all of the counselors had made it into their cabins safely.

He honestly didn't trust all of them completely. He knew little of their backgrounds, but he was sure they would all prove to be loyal and trustworthy counselors.

He had so much work to do in such little time. And, of course, weather was a factor. He could have gotten a lot more done, if it hadn't rained him out. It was going to be a stressful two weeks.

All of a sudden, Mr. Christy's thoughts were interrupted by a blinding, white shaft of light that hit him directly in the face.

Startled, Mr. Christy held his arm up to deflect the white beam, and squinted through the rain to make out the source of the light.

It was the beam of a flashlight.

And someone was holding the flashlight. Standing in the middle of the dirt road, just a few feet away.

Mr. Christy stood there for a second, trying to distinguish who was shining the flashlight at him. But he became disoriented, the white light was almost hypnotizing, and the rain whipped at his face and eyes.

"Hello? Who is that?" Mr. Christy shouted through the storm.

No reply.

Mr. Christy stepped closer towards the figure, and saw it was someone wearing a dark, black raincoat. The hood of the raincoat was pulled over their facial features, and Mr. Christy could not make out who it was. Was it one of his counselors? He wasn't sure.

"Alice? Is that you? What are you guys doing out in this mess?" Mr. Christy questioned, stepping closer to the figure.

The mysterious person didn't say a word, and stood deathly still. The person began to lower the flashlight, as Mr. Christy approached them.

"Who is that?" he asked again, inching further towards the figure.

All of a sudden, there was a flash of silver, and the prowler withdrew a sharp, hunting knife. Mr. Christy had no time to react.

He just watched as the prowler lurched forward, and brought the knife down into Mr. Christy's chest.

The blade thudded into the muscle and bone of his chest, piercing his heart.

Mr. Christy's face twisted into sheer agony and surprise, as he doubled over in pain, blood dribbling from his lower lip. He coughed up blood and fell to his knees.

His attacker reached under his body, and ripped the knife from his chest, as Mr. Christy retaliated with a blood-curdling scream, and he choked on his own blood.

The assailant plunged the knife into Mr. Christy a second time, this time into his lower back with a sickening, crunching noise, as the blade penetrated his flesh.

Mr. Christy collapsed onto his belly, and began to convulse with pain, blood spewing from his wounds. The prowler raised up his boot, and slammed his foot down hard on the handle of the knife, pushing it further into Steve's spine.

Mr. Christy's body slowly stopped convulsing, and lay still among the wet leaves. As his life drained from his body, so did his blood, washing away in little rivulets of red, mixing in with the rain that fell upon the ground.

Chapter 11

It was nearing ten o' clock, and the storm wasn't stopping anytime soon.

Pitch black darkness had begun to envelop the campgrounds, as dark, ominous clouds concealed the light of the moon. Thunder growled ferociously in the sky, and a jagged, bolt of lightning tore across the night sky, illuminating the campgrounds for a split second.

Bill and Alice sprinted through the rain, the beam of a single flashlight visible through the misty sheet of rain that poured down around them. Alice clutched the flashlight in one hand, and the bloody axe in another, and stayed close to Bill as they approached the camp office.

Bill and Alice ran up onto the cluttered porch of the camp office, and Bill tugged at the door.

"Hurry, Bill!" Alice urged, as she looked around warily, her wet hair falling around her face.

"I'm trying, this damn door is stuck!" Bill shouted. He rammed his shoulder into it.

The door didn't budge an inch.

Bill threw himself into the door again with a loud WHAM, but the door still didn't move.

"How is the door stuck?" Alice questioned, her voice throbbing from having to shout over the storm.

"I don't know!" Bill cried.

He slammed himself into the door once more, and the door gave way, and Alice and Bill tumbled into the dark interior of the office. Bill found a desk lamp, and switched it on, illuminating the inside of the office. Alice forced the door shut, the storm pounding against it, and sighed with relief.

Alice placed the flashlight on the desk and ran over towards the phone. She picked up the receiver and put it to her ear.

"Who are you planning to call?" Bill asked.

"I don't know," Alice replied. Alice listened to the receiver, and the color began to drain from her face. "Oh, great, this damn thing is dead!"

"Of course it is," Bill muttered to himself and leaned against the wall.

"Oh my God," Alice said quietly, with horror in her voice.

Alice peered underneath the desk, and Bill's eyes followed her gaze. The cord leading from the telephone to the wall had been cut.

Slashed right in two.

"Oh my god, Bill. Somebody cut the phone line," Alice said, her voice quivering with fear. She buried her face into her hands.

"Who is doing this?" Bill wondered aloud, tugging at his hair with frustration and letting a sigh escape between his lips.

"Someone is really trying to scare us here," Alice replied, sitting down in the office chair.

There was a moment of silence, as Bill paced the room, and Alice sat in the chair, both thinking and listening to the storm raging on outside.

"Maybe we should drive out of here, and go find someone to help us. My truck is out front, and I've got my keys," Bill suggested, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yeah, you are right," Alice said, standing up.

"Come on, let's go," Bill declared, and yanked the door open, racing outside onto the porch. Alice snatched up the flashlight and quickly followed Bill out the door, closing the office door behind her.

Bill threw open the driver's side door of his black pick-up truck and climbed into the driver's seat. Alice ran around the front of the truck, opened the passenger side door, and climbed into the passenger seat, banging the door shut beside her.

Bill dug into his pockets for his keys, and pulled them out. He stuck them in the ignition, and twisted them. The truck revved up with a loud roar, and then sputtered, and then died. Bill cursed underneath his breath, and tried once more. The truck failed to start.

"Oh, no, Bill!" Alice whined, her eyes filling with dread.

"I don't know what's wrong with it!" Bill exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. He slammed his forehead on the steering wheel, and let out an annoyed moan.

Bill sat up and climbed out of the truck and walked around to the hood. He popped open the hood and leaned down into the interior of the car. Alice clambered out of the passenger seat, and closed the door behind her, still holding the axe and the flashlight.

She walked around to the front of the truck, beside Bill, and surveyed the engine. She didn't know much about cars, and she couldn't tell if anything was wrong. Bill ran his fingers across the surface of the engine.

"What's wrong with it?" Alice asked impatiently, wiping a strand of wet hair out of her eyes.

"I don't know! I guess the engine is wet," Bill stated, closing the hood.

"Now what are we going to do?" Alice cried with worry.

"There's nothing we can do," Bill answered.

"I say we just hike out of here! We could make it to town and get some help!" Alice replied.

"Alice, its twenty miles to the nearest store, there's no way we could make it, especially in this storm!" Bill shouted over the pouring rain.

"Bill, I'm scared!" Alice sniveled, as she brought her hands up to her face.

"Alice, take a deep breath, ok?" Alice did as she was told. "I'm sure there is a stupid explanation for all of this. We are going to laugh about this in the morning. Let's just go back up to the main cabin, and wait this storm out. Mr. Christy will probably pull up any second." Bill assured.

He then wrapped his big, strong arms around Alice, and embraced her. Alice slid her arms inside Bill's poncho and hugged tightly.

It was like every worry that Alice had was thrown away, and Alice cared about nothing else in the world. Bill's hug was so warm, so secure and so reassuring. She didn't want to let go. He smelled of strong cologne, and his upper arms were so bulky and muscular. Alice returned the hug, and then reluctantly, released. She looked up into his big, comforting eyes and smiled.

"Thank you," she said. "You've kept me calm through this whole thing. You are probably right. I'm being silly,"

"Everything is going to be just fine. Let's get out of this storm," Bill said.

The whole way back to the main cabin, Bill had his arm wrapped tightly around Alice. Alice rested her head against his shoulder and snaked her arm underneath his poncho and wrapped herself around his warm body, and the two strolled back towards the main cabin, forever safe in each other's arms.

The prowler watched the two lovebirds saunter calmly back to the main cabin. Watching in the shadow of the trees. Stupid teenagers. They cared about nothing but themselves.

It would all be over soon. They would both be dead, and everything would be back to the way it should be. This camp, this place of death and grief, would forever be closed down, and nothing bad would ever happen again.

It was time.

Tonight, it would end.

The heavy, oak door to the main cabin swung open and Alice and Bill entered the main cabin, hand in hand, closing the door behind them. The thunder was now a quiet rumble, and the rain sounded almost peaceful and tranquil, gently drumming on the tin roof.

Alice placed the axe by the door and peeled off her wet raincoat, and hung it on the hook. She set her flashlight on the table by the couch, and sat down on the far end of the couch, and rested her head in her hand. Bill stripped his raincoat, and hung it on the back of the armchair, and sank down into the soft, leather cushion.

"This storm is making me sleepy," Alice said. Her voice was becoming slurred, and her eyes gently floated up and down, as she shifted to a lying position on the couch.

"Yeah, it's getting late. You need to get some rest," Bill replied.

Bill stood up, and grabbed the fleece blanket off of the back of the couch, and draped it over Alice, as she rested her head on the pillow, and began to drift off to sleep.

"Goodnight," Bill whispered and stroked Alice's blond hair lovingly, and plopped back down in the armchair.

 _Creak._

The wobbly, rickety door gently swung open, revealing the gloomy interior of the generator shed.

Two, black boots crept across the sagging wood floor, as the prowler snaked his way towards the generator. A black gloved hand reached out, and pulled the switch.

The lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

And then the power went out completely. Bill and Alice were bathed completely in darkness.

"Oh, crap," Bill cursed to himself. A disconcerted sigh broke free from between his lips, and he rose to his feet. "The generator is acting up again. I'd better go check on it,"

Alice brought her head up. "Do you want me to come with you?" Alice asked, groggily and half-asleep.

"No, no, you just get some rest," Bill responded, and patted Alice gingerly on the arm. Alice's head fell back onto the pillow groggily, and the room fell quiet.

Bill grabbed his poncho off the back of the couch, and walked quietly towards the door. He twisted the knob, and pulled the door open, feeling the cold sharpness of the rain on his bare skin. He slipped his red poncho on, and left the main cabin, the door closing gently behind him.

 _CRACK._

A huge bolt of lightning slashed across the sky, as the deafening roar of thunder followed shortly after. Alice jolted upright from her sleeping position, and released a loud, frightened gasp.

Her wide, terrified eyes glanced around the dark, empty cabin. Everything was strangely quiet. The only sound was Alice's breathing, and the rain falling. She was on the couch in the main cabin. Bill was nowhere to be seen.

"Bill?" Alice called out into the darkness. Thunder clapped, and Alice glanced around fearfully.

Had she been asleep? If so, where was Bill? She couldn't remember anything. Where was she?

"Bill!" she called again. All she could think about was Bill. A sense of dread fell upon her all of a sudden, and her heart began to race.

Suddenly, there was a loud THUD at the door. It sounded like heavy, dragging footsteps. Slugging across the front porch. Alice's heart skipped a beat, and she held her breath, trembling all over.

She slowly and warily climbed off of the couch and moved towards the door. She didn't want to open the door. Her mind kept screaming at her to not open the door, but something was drawing her towards the door, some instinctive force, similar to gravity, was pulling her towards the door.

She held out a quivering hand, and opened the door. There on the front porch, stood Bill. His big, brown eyes bored into hers, and a smile spread across his face. He inched closer towards Alice.

"Bill!" Alice exclaimed, relieved to see his face.

Just then, Bill's face twisted into an expression of pain and horror. And he pitched forward, landing on the ground in front of Alice. Alice screamed at what she saw.

A knife was embedded firmly in the middle of his back, a fresh ring of blood surrounding the wound. Alice screamed and screamed, sinking to her knees, her horrible wails drowned out with the rain and she…

"BILL!" Alice shrieked at the top of her lungs, as she woke up and leapt straight up into the air, curling into a fetal position on the couch. She was drenched with sweat from head to toe, and she began to hyperventilate, her chest heaving up and down.

It was a dream.

A horrible dream.

Alice inhaled, and then exhaled, her hair matted to her face with sweat, her hands were cold and clammy. She took another gulp of air, as she tried to gain her grip on reality. She shook away sleep, sitting up in a normal position on the couch. She looked around. She had fallen asleep in the main cabin, and had a terrible dream. Yes, it was just a dream. Everything is alright. Alice glanced at the door with huge, horrified eyes. But the door was closed. Everything was normal. Bill was nowhere to be seen. His body wasn't sprawled on the floor. It was just a dream.

But it was so real. She could almost smell the metallic scent of blood. She couldn't shake the image of Bill, dead on the floor, the wooden handle of an eight-inch steak knife protruding from his body. A cold chill ran up her spine, and she shivered.

Something was different about the main cabin, and she couldn't make out what it was. The rain was still falling just as hard, and the thunder was just as loud. The lights were on.

The lights were on.

That was it.

Bill must have fixed the generator.

Alice relaxed on the couch with a relieved sigh. But where was Bill?

Alice sat up again, glancing around with concern.

If the generator was running now, where was Bill? Maybe he was on his way back. He would probably walk in any second. Just then, her thoughts were sliced by an ear-shattering whistle. It was piercing and strident, ringing through Alice's head. She glanced towards the kitchen doorway.

It was the tea kettle.

Alice sprang from the couch, and ran into the kitchen, grabbing the tea kettle off the stove hurriedly and placing it in the sink, running cool water on the base of the kettle. Steam rose into Alice's eyes, and she coughed and brushed the hot gas away.

Alice looked up from the tea kettle, and fixed her eyes on the generator shed from the kitchen window. She could barely make it out, but it was too dark outside for her to see anything. Alice sighed, and lifted the tea kettle out of the sink. She opened one of the cabinets above her head, and pulled out a blue mug. She poured the steamy, brown liquid into the mug, the aroma delighting her nostrils and awakening her. She placed the kettle back on the stove, made sure the stove was off, and walked back into the living room, sipping the tea. She strolled back towards the couch, and placed the tea on the coffee table. She gazed at the door, expecting Bill to walk in.

He never did.

Alice waited a few more minutes, restlessly shifting positions on the couch, her eyes groggily drifting up and down, her mind wandering. Don't fall asleep again, Alice told herself, and took another sip of the tea to try to rouse her from her bleariness.

Where was Bill? Maybe he had gone to get help. He wouldn't have left her. Alice walked over towards the door and peered out the dark window, expecting to see Bill's fit figure strolling towards the main cabin. She looked for any sign of a flashlight or lantern or even headlights. But all she saw was pitch black, and the rain that dripped off of the roof and splashed into scattered puddles.

She couldn't sit here and wonder anymore. Determined, Alice walked over to the coat rack and grabbed her yellow slicker, and she put it on, pulling the hood over her blond hair.

She grabbed the flashlight that was sitting on the end table by the couch, and headed for the door to the main cabin. She pulled the door open, and stepped outside, closing it shut behind her. She walked down the porch steps, and shone the flashlight on the ground, making sure she wasn't going to trip on anything, and she walked around the main cabin and headed towards the generator shed.

"Bill!" she called into the rain. "Bill!"

She heard nothing but the pouring rain and the thunder above her head. Her heart began to beat faster, as she approached the generator shed. Her flashlight fluttered back and forth rhythmically as she walked, and the rain fell onto her yellow slicker and whipped at her face, and she wiped the rain from her eyes, her wet blond fair falling around her face.

Alice walked up to the generator shed and stopped dead in her tracks. The door was wide open.

"Bill?" she called. Alice stepped into the open doorway of the shack, looking around. The shack was empty. Not a sign of Bill anywhere. Alice walked further into the dim, decrepit shack. A foul odor reached her nostrils and she grimaced. She stepped on something soft and wet, and looked down.

It was Bill's red poncho. Discarded on the floor.

"Bill?" she said, and bent down to pick up the poncho. Where was he?

Things were getting very weird around here, Alice thought to herself. Has Bill joined the sick joke? Where was everyone? And where was Mr. Christy? What was going on? She wasn't sure. Now Bill was missing along with everyone else. Alice let out a frustrated sigh and dropped Bill's poncho.

"Bill!" she shouted again and stepped outside into the rain. "Bill!" she shrieked.

Nobody would hear her through the rain. The only thing she could do is wait in the main cabin.

Alice turned around and grabbed a hold of the heavy, wooden door of the generator shed and swung it, closing the door. It was heavier than usual. She heaved the door close with a grunt of effort and then stepped back, and froze completely.

The hairs stood up on the back of her neck, and her heart almost stopped abruptly, as her jaw dropped at what she saw.

It was Bill. And he was dead.

Propped up on the outside of the door to the generator shed. Impaled to the door like a movie poster. Soaked with his own blood. His flannel shirt was ripped and caked with scarlet, and a jagged gash ran across his throat, blood cascading down the front of his body. The long, shafts of a dozen arrows protruded from his body. The arrows had been driven into his body with such force that they were pinning him to the door. One of the arrows jutted out from his eye socket, blood and gore streaming down his face. Another arrow had been rammed into his stomach, another in his chest, and one more in his shoulder.

A horrible, heart-wrenching scream erupted from the bottom of Alice's soul, as she screamed into the night sky, dropping to her knees, staring up at the corpse of her friend.

"Oh my God! Bill! BILL!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, tears coursing down her cheeks. She was a wet, blubbering mess kneeling at the sight of Bill's mutilated body.

Someone had murdered Bill. The same someone had probably murdered all the others. Alice's eyes grew wide as she realized the horrible truth.

She was next.

Screaming bloody murder, Alice snatched up her flashlight and raced back towards the main cabin.


End file.
